


Darcy Lewis Wears Many Hats

by Selenay



Series: Damage Limitation [6]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, Well maybe the Pixar character abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy held up her StarkPad. "The only images the media got of our boys and girls were the post-spore-thing goop fight. And as much as certain demographics love a good photo of people covered in slime and wrestling, overall it isn't playing well."</p><p>"They don't have to deal with the smell," Phil said regretfully. "It's lingering."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darcy Lewis Wears Many Hats

"Agent Coulson!"

Phil looked up from his folder of requisitions paperwork to find Darcy standing in his doorway. She was holding her StarkPad and a small stack of multi-coloured folders and, for some reason, she was wearing a cowboy hat. It sparkled.

"Ms. Lewis." Phil paused, trying to decide on which incongruity to tackle first and settling on the easiest. Or the least spangled, anyway. "While I don't want to discourage you from taking my title more seriously, why exactly are you addressing me as Agent Coulson? You haven't done that since you arrived here."

"Sure I have. Once. I must have?" Darcy shrugged. "I was carrying on a tradition. It's how all your PR managers announce their presence and today I'm in here in my PR managing capacity."

She trotted in and sat down in the chair on the other side of Phil's desk. Her small stack of folders landed on top of Phil's neat pile of completed mission reports and she tapped her password into her tablet quickly.

Phil sat back in his chair and raised his eyebrows. "The hat?"

Darcy reached up the touch it self-consciously. "I thought it might help to differentiate my roles. My job requires me to wear multiple hats now and as I'm here right now for PR stuff, I figured it might help to wear a hat. To remind you. That this is PR stuff. And you can't fire me for anything that I have to tell you for PR stuff."

"I see." Phil eyed the hat. It was shedding glitter every time Darcy moved. "What makes you think that I can't fire you?"

"Because I don't report to you for PR stuff?" Darcy tried. "Because I'm the only person crazy enough to take the job?"

Phil sighed. "Point noted. Well, Ms. Lewis?"

"Do you want the polling numbers first or action plans to deal with them?"

Opting for neither was probably not an option so he settled for polling numbers. They always set the tone for these discussions beautifully.

"OK, so, don’t panic because it's not as bad as it sounds," Darcy said. "I was probably right about the post-Clint-on-a-chat show numbers last week. I'm guessing solid ninety-one, ninety-two the day after. It was probably only a couple of points drop and that would have only been in the really conservative demographics."

"I sense there is a but."

Darcy winced. "The polling company didn't do their thing until yesterday. You know, after that whole thing with the big meteor from outer space releasing spores that infected a town and, wow, was that ever not pretty."

'Not pretty' was putting it mildly. Phil had some images burned permanently into his brain from it and even the media had shied away from filming a lot of it. "Shied away" was the polite way of saying "only the ones with the strongest stomachs had stayed during the worst part, the rest had run screaming".

"I'm not entirely sure why it affected our polling numbers," Phil said cautiously. "All we did was the clean-up."

"I did a couple of quick focus groups in Starbucks this morning-"

"You spent some of your limited PR budget on buying coffee and muffins for everyone in the Starbucks down the street," Phil corrected.

"Focus groups, boss man," Darcy said cheerfully. "Do you think that I just picked anyone off the street and bribed them with sugar so that I could try out my expense account?"

"Yes."

"It's still a valid technique and according to my focus groups, their issue was that all they saw the Avengers doing was cleaning up the aftermath. The Fantastic Four fixed the whole spore thing and believe me, their polling numbers are really good this morning."

"Ms. Lewis, is there any chance that you got hold of their polling numbers legally?" Phil asked blandly.

Darcy's guilty look was all he needed. He would probably be spending the afternoon apologising to Reed Richards. Again.

"Can we maybe focus on the problem?" she asked.

"Which is?"

Darcy held up her StarkPad. "The only images the media got of our boys and girls were the post-spore-thing goop fight. And as much as certain demographics love a good photo of people covered in slime and wrestling, overall it isn't playing well."

"They don't have to deal with the smell," Phil said regretfully. "It's lingering."

"Kicked Clint out of bed again last night, huh?"

Phil gave her the most severe, forbidding look in his arsenal which had its usual effect on her.

Darcy smirked. "Anyway, I've got a plan. Assuming we can't create a giant rat thing they can fight to make them look a bit better...?"

Phil shook his head. Sometimes it was tempting but they were the good guys and giant rodents were not something they were supposed to do.

"Too bad." Darcy straightened her shoulders, ignoring the glitter that was sifting onto her glasses. "Now, you're probably going to think I'm crazy, but let me explain my reasoning."

***

"No."

"Absolutely not."

Steve and Natasha wore matching obstinate expressions and Phil couldn't blame them. In their position, his response would have been the same. He was just grateful that nobody in the media was actually interested in the quiet guy in the suit, unless Clint said or did something unfortunate within range of a camera. Most people had even forgotten that Phil was the person who shot Snow White within a week of the incident happening. It was always attributed to Steve or Stark now.

Banner, Thor and Stark all looked amused and Clint appeared to be suffocating in his attempts not to laugh or say anything. It was the first time any of them had looked cheerful for a couple of days so Phil didn't have the heart to glare at them.

"I know it sounds like a really bad idea," Darcy said, "but that's why I picked you."

Both of Natasha's eyebrows went up.

"OK, that sounded better in my head."

"What Ms. Lewis is trying to say," Phil said before Darcy could dig herself a deeper hole, "is that we can trust you not to say or do anything that might embarrass yourselves or your colleagues. Unlike certain other people present."

"Those were not the questions we ran!" Clint protested.

"Yeah, but they were the questions everyone was interested in," Stark said cheerfully.

"Fuck you."

"No thanks."

"If we could return to the issue at hand?" Phil asked.

"Sure," Natasha said sweetly. "We can discuss it all you want. Steve and I aren't appearing on any chat shows."

"Look, seriously, it's going to be great," Darcy said. "I've got a friend on the production team, neither of you have juicy stuff on the banned topics list..."

She trailed off under Natasha's stare.

"Oh god," Darcy said. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know yet. Don't tell me until after the show. If I don't know then I can't put it on the out-of-bounds list and nobody will think to ask about it."

"Melbourne?" Clint asked.

Natasha shrugged.

"Darce, don't ask her."

Phil didn't want to know either, although he had a feeling that he probably would know soon and wish that he hadn't found out. That was the way these things tended to go.

"Maybe it will be OK," Steve said with a hopeful expression. "I've seen this show a couple of times. It's nothing like one Clint went on. They're pretty respectful to their guests."

"I know exactly how it's going to go and what kind of questions they'll ask," Natasha said darkly. "No."

"Do I need to remind you that technically you're still an employee of SHIELD?" Phil asked, sensing that only a direct order would actually have any effect.

Natasha said something under her breath and tossed her hair back. "Very well. You can deal with the consequences."

"Yay!" Darcy said happily. “You’re scheduled in for Friday night.”

"I'm still not clear on the hat thing," Banner said.

"It's symbolic," Darcy said, taking her glittery cowboy hat off and laying it gently on the conference room table. "Now I'm not wearing it so I'm not being the PR gal. I'm just the excellent and talented PA."

Nobody called her on that. Phil suspected she'd won them over with her flagrant gifts of baked goods.

"Is this it? Are we done now?" Stark asked.

"Hot date?" Darcy asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Pepper's flight arrives in half an hour." Stark stood up and straightened his jacket. "You're all invited to stay for dinner with us. Pepper insists."

"Tony, we live here," Steve said.

"And we’re graciously allowing you to stay for dinner rather than giving you five bucks each and sending you to the movies."

"Did you tell her about the whole goop-stink thing?" Banner asked as he followed Stark out of the room.

Phil took a moment to tidy up his files and slide them into his briefcase, allowing everyone to leave ahead of him. Darcy waved a cheerful good-bye and took her hat to shed glitter somewhere else. The sound of people bickering about which take-out place they'd order from faded away as a hand closed over his on the briefcase handle. Phil looked up to find Clint standing barely inches away with a wistful expression.

"Hi," Clint said, leaning closer.

Phil wrinkled his nose and stepped back quickly.

"Still too stinky, huh?"

"It's much less potent than yesterday," Phil said diplomatically.

"But I'm still banned from your quarters."

"It'll teach you not to play with alien slime.”

Clint sighed. "I miss sex."

"It's been less than four days."

Phil received a dark look that he couldn't blame Clint for although he was trying to put a good face on their predicament.

"It's just-" Clint broke off and shrugged. "You get used to having it regularly and then you can't and it sucks."

"I'm sure the smell will have worn off by the weekend," Phil said encouragingly.

"Maybe I'll try having another shower."

Phil watched Clint shuffle dejectedly down the hall to the elevators and reminded himself firmly that the one and only time they had tried to be close enough to kiss for more than thirty seconds there had been retching. No sex, no matter how good, was worth that.

***

On the day of the chat show, Phil spent the afternoon with Natasha, Steve and Darcy prepping questions. Darcy managed to make even Natasha grin with her impressions of the host and her selection of role-hats. By the time he dismissed them to change and began packing up his notes, most of the feeling of impending doom had faded.

Phil stepped out of the conference room and immediately scented chocolate in the air. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and he followed his nose down to the kitchen, where he leaned against the door jamb to watch the activity.

Most of the chocolate smell could be traced to two cakes cooling on a counter. The rest came from the bowl that Clint was mixing vigorously. There was a smear of chocolate on Clint's chin and his sleeveless t-shirt showed off his arms perfectly. Phil was fairly sure that Clint did it deliberately now that he knew how much Phil liked his biceps.

Darcy was sitting with her back to Phil, leaning over the counter to check out the contents of the bowl.

"Whatcha making, babe?" Darcy asked.

"Cake for tonight," Clint said, flicking a quick, warm glance at Phil. "If nothing goes wrong then it's a celebration cake."

"And if it goes like your interview did, it's for eating until we're all chocolate-drunk and don't care anymore. Smart boy." Darcy leaned over further and Phil decided that it was a good thing he wasn't a jealous man. "Can I steal some frosting?"

"No."

"You've got way more than you need there," Darcy said with a hint of whine in her voice.

"I've got just the right amount."

"You've only got, like, two cakes. Why do you need that much frosting?"

Clint grinned. "Well jeez, Darce, I can't imagine what I'm planning to do with two cups of left-over chocolate fudge frosting."

Phil felt his face heat but his voice was steady when he said, "End up in a diabetic coma, given the amount of sugar in that stuff."

Darcy squeaked and jumped. When she turned around, her face was bright red and Phil decided that it was a sign of how badly living in this tower had affected him that all he felt was cheerfully satisfied at finally finding something that made her blush.

Clint snickered and she rolled her eyes at him.

"You knew he was there all along," she accused, pointing a finger dramatically.

"I can't lie," Clint said. "Sorry."

Darcy muttered something that Phil pretended not to hear and swept out of the kitchen. Clint put down his bowl and raised both eyebrows.

"That was mean," he said.

Phil shrugged as he moved to the counter. "I thought it was quite funny."

"Want to taste my frosting?" Clint said, somehow keeping his face completely straight despite the wicked glint in his eye. "I don't stink anymore, promise. You can check."

After spending an afternoon with Steve and Natasha without passing out from the fumes, Phil didn't really need to check. He rounded the counter and leaned in for a cautious sniff of Clint's neck anyway. Clint definitely didn't stink anymore. He smelled of chocolate and something slightly spicy and Phil took a second sniff just because he smelled so good. When Phil felt a kiss just under his ear and warm breath on his neck, he wasn't surprised. It would have been disappointing if Clint hadn't tried something, given the empty kitchen and the week of frustration. Phil pressed a little closer so that he could feel the heat from Clint's body, which Clint took as encouragement to kiss and nuzzle some more. He was very good at it and Phil shivered when Clint allowed his teeth to gently graze a particularly, sensitive spot.

Phil took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away. "I have to go."

Clint's grin was cheerful and understanding. "I know. You still haven't checked the frosting, though."

"You were serious about that?"

"Why do you think that everything I say is a double entendre?"

"It's usually not even that subtle." Phil smiled. "Fine, one taste and then I have to go."

"That's what you always say."

Phil started to hunt on the counter for a clean spoon, never an easy thing to find when Clint was cooking. Clint solved the problem by scooping up a dollop of frosting on his finger and holding it out.

"That's not-"

"It's clean, Phil," Clint said. "You think I stick my dirty finger into something other people have to eat?"

Phil opened his mouth, hesitated, tried again and eventually said, "I have nowhere to go with that."

"Just taste the fucking frosting."

It was perfect, rich and chocolaty. Clint's expression as Phil held his wrist to suck and lick every scrap of it away was even better. His pupils blew, his lips parted and his breathing sped up. Phil regretted starting something he couldn't finish even as he pulled away from Clint's finger with a quiet pop. Knowing what was waiting when he got home was going to make the next few hours into some kind of torturous hell of waiting and anticipation. There was a very real chance that he'd put a bullet into anyone who tried to delay his return home.

"Are you sure that you have to supervise this chat show thing?" Clint said shakily. "I've got two cups of frosting going spare right now."

The idea of sending Natasha and Steve on their own was appealing, but Phil was a trained professional who could handle anything, even Clint at his most tempting. He was also getting far too experienced in the disasters that unsupervised superheroes could cause on national television.

"It will still be here later," Phil said, his voice equally rough, as he leaned in to carefully lick away the smear of chocolate on Clint's chin. "And we've got all weekend."

"All weekend sounds perfect."

***

On Monday morning, Phil sat in his office at SHIELD HQ and stared across the table at Darcy. Her PR hat today was some kind of grey knitted thing.

"Well, so that happened," Darcy said after a while.

"It did."

"I'm just..." Darcy trailed away and frowned. "Is it possible that there's some kind of curse? Is that why this is happening? Someone cursed us so that every time we get even the tiniest bit of positive press, this kind of stuff happens."

"I do wonder sometimes."

"Seriously, you should have seen it on Saturday morning," Darcy said. "Everyone loved Natasha, especially the smack-down she gave when the diet question came up. Even Steve got into it, which scored him some major points. It was brilliant. Tumblr went crazy with gifs. They trended on Twitter for at least twelve hours. If we'd done polling, it would have been awesome."

"I saw the screen caps you sent me," Phil said. "The dozens of screen caps."

"You weren't answering your cell," Darcy said.

Phil reminded himself firmly that she was very good at her job, both her jobs, and if he fired her then there would be more terrible PR managers to deal with. More Ms Blakes, more Jones's. Apparently thinking about them allowed some of his irritation to escape in a glare because Darcy shrank down in her chair slightly.

"OK, fair point, it was a bit early on Saturday and I'm sure you had better things to do," Darcy said with a smirk. "But still, it was amazing. And then...that."

"It's not actually the Avengers' fault," Phil said mildly. "They have to go out whenever the call comes, no matter what it is."

"But those things were so cute!" Darcy wailed.

"Until they began eating bystanders, they did have a certain appeal to them."

"They looked like that big blue fuzzy thing from Monsters Inc. Everyone loves that thing."

"Sulley." At Darcy's look, Phil said, "I have a niece."

Darcy sighed. "Can we just Taser anyone with a camera phone near one of these train-wrecks? It wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't so much pre-eating footage with them looking all cuddly."

"I don't think it’s the pre-eating footage that's the problem," Phil said tiredly.

"Yeah, it’s the ass-kicking footage," Darcy with regret. "If they'd aired the mid-eating footage that would have given it some context and it wouldn't look so bad. Did Tony have to do so much...blasting?"

"It's one of his major roles on the team," Phil said. "Without the blasting, he's just an exceedingly annoying man in an iron suit."

Darcy blinked at him a couple of times. "OK, wow, you get grumpy when your weekend gets interrupted by man-eating fuzzy blue things."

As Phil's plans for the weekend had involved a significant amount of time in bed with a naked Clint - and watching Clint sleep off painkillers all day on Sunday thanks to twenty stitches and several nasty bites didn't count - he felt justified in being a little off this morning. Friday night and about three hours on Saturday morning had been the only parts of the weekend that actually went to plan. The fact that this described most of their weekends didn't help his mood.

It wasn't fair to take it out on Darcy, Phil reminded himself. She wasn't the one who had set a dozen ravenous yet cute monsters loose on the streets of New York. All she was doing was trying to clean up the aftermath in the press.

"OK, boss man, we both need cheering up," Darcy announced. "Have you got any requisitions that you need me to take down to purchasing?"

"Why does that cheer you up?" Phil asked, holding out the relevant folder.

Darcy smiled wickedly. "Because it's fun watching the clerks try to figure out what the story is behind all the things you order."

Phil supposed that some of his forms could look a little odd taken out of context.

"Want some coffee while I'm wandering?" Darcy added. "I can think up counter-publicity plans better if I'm caffeinated."

"Is this just an excuse to use my budget for your own coffee and muffins?" Phil asked.

"Absolutely." Darcy grinned. "Permission to abuse your budget, sir?"

"Permission granted."

***

Phil waited in the conference room at the tower as the Avengers filed in. Darcy had set out coffee and donuts in the middle of the table, which Stark and Clint both eyed with suspicion. Their paranoia didn't stop them taking their portions, but Phil felt oddly pleased that Clint was already onto Darcy's bribery by sugar tactics.

Darcy presented the chocolate twist that she had saved for Natasha with a cheerful grin. Natasha took it warily and sat down next to Clint, which was going to be a complete disaster later, Phil was absolutely certain of that.

Banner arrived just after everyone else smelling faintly of hydrogen sulphide and Phil was definitely not going to ask about it.

"How much trouble are we in?" Stark asked.

"Why would you assume that you're in trouble?" Phil frowned. "What have you done?"

"Nothing!" Stark said quickly.

Phil sighed and made a note to check the newsfeeds later. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Darcy tapping something on her StarkPad, turning a little green and then glaring at Stark.

"Leaving whatever you're trying to hide aside for the moment," Phil said, "none of you are in trouble. Yet. We are having a small public relations..."

"Disaster," Darcy supplied.

"...problem right now after the weekend's incident," Phil continued. "However, Ms. Lewis has what she assures me is a fool-proof plan."

"You know, every time someone has a fool-proof plan," Natasha said, "someone has to make a public apology for Clint."

"Hey!"

"That's unfair," Steve said. "Sometimes someone has to apologise for all of us."

"Except you," Stark said. "We never have to apologise for you."

The tips of Steve's ears went pink and Phil remembered that nobody had ever actually been told about Steve and Natasha's little side-venture into arson.

"Trust me, this one can't fail," Darcy said confidently.

"I'm going to regret asking this, but what's the plan?" Clint asked.

Phil raised his eyebrows and Darcy shook her head. 

"No way, we agreed after last time that I can't be PA girl and PR girl at the same time in these meetings. It's one or the other and I brought coffee so I'm definitely PA girl today. You get to do this."

Phil supressed the urge to sigh. It was turning into a trying week. "Ms. Lewis has signed us up for a charity bike ride at the weekend."

Five blank pairs of eyes met his. Natasha just looked amused.

"Don't we already do a lot of good work?" Banner asked cautiously. "We do save the world quite frequently."

"You also frequently cause massive amounts of property damage and mental trauma," Phil said. "We're hoping some charity work might counter some of that."

Stark held up his hand. "OK, yeah, sounds good but I already do a lot of charity work."

"Signing checks when Pepper hands them to you isn't charity work," Natasha said dryly.

"It raises a lot more money than a bike ride does," Stark said. "And hey, it doesn't require uncomfortable cycling shorts so that's a win all round."

Clint grinned at Phil. "Us. You said us, which means you're also signed up for this thing, sir. Does that mean we get to see you in cycling shorts?"

Phil glared forbiddingly. "No."

"Too bad." Clint's grin didn't fade. "Shorts of any kind? I'm not fussy."

Natasha snickered. "Don't you get to see his-"

"Don't even think about completing that sentence, Agent Romanov," Stark said. "I don't need these mental images. Not at all."

"I was going to say legs, Tony. Legs." Natasha rolled her eyes. "Unlike you, I'm not vulgar in public."

Several incredulous gazes were directed her way but Natasha smiled serenely.

Banner frowned and said, "Weren't you the one th-"

"Sir, how are we going to raise sponsorship money?" Steve asked, cutting Banner off mid-word, and Phil smiled gratefully at the diversion. "If this thing is happening at the weekend, that doesn't give us much time."

"Already sorted," Darcy said. "I set up a donation page on our website a couple of hours ago. We've already got eight thousand dollars and I'm betting we'll have over a hundred thousand by the weekend."

"What is involved in this bike ride?" Thor asked. "Do we race? It does not seem a fair thing to other competitors."

"No racing. Absolutely no racing. That's not really the point," Darcy said, holding up her StarkPad. "We'll all be riding this on a ten kilometre circuit with a bunch of other people."

"Is that even a bike?" Stark asked.

"Aren't there too many seats for us?" Steve asked.

"Jane and Pepper are flying in for it," Darcy said. "It's the Avengers plus staff and family bike team."

"There are even t-shirts that say so," Phil said blandly.

He heard Natasha and Clint giggling quietly and didn't have the heart to glare at them.

"I want it to go on record that I objected to this," Stark said.

"Your opinion has been noted," Phil said. "You'll be there. Pepper is looking forward to it."

"As am I!" Thor boomed, having perked up a lot at the news that Jane was flying in.

"Don't make any plans for after," Phil said. "The second phase of Ms. Lewis' plan is a photoshoot for all of you."

There was deathly silence in the conference room.

"Photoshoot?" Steve said eventually.

"Yup," Darcy said. "It's going to be great. At home with the Avengers. You know, the kind of thing they do in Hello magazine. Photos of you guys cooking and sitting around being cuddly with your girl...boy...significant others."

"Will there be an interview?" Clint asked cautiously.

"No interview, Barton," Phil said reassuringly. "Just captions, I've been told."

"Pepper will never agree to this," Stark said. "No way. I made a Hello photographer cry the last time we tried this."

Phil smiled. "It was Pepper who got Ms. Lewis the contacts for it."

"Shit."

***

Phil surveyed his motley band of cyclists. Stark was the only one who had been brave enough to attempt cycling shorts in the mid-October weather. He looked like he was regretting the decision already and he kept trying to steal Pepper's coffee cup. She had somehow made sweatpants and sneakers look stylish, which was an impressive feat that Phil suspected only she could have managed. Natasha and Darcy were standing together, glaring at anyone who tried to look too long at Natasha's ass or Darcy's…well…everything.

Banner and Steve were both wearing SHIELD issue sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirts, which appeared to be playing very well to the press photographers and onlookers who were merrily snapping photos whenever the pair didn't seem to be watching them. Phil suspected that most of the gossip columns tomorrow would be filled with photos of assorted Avenger asses. Darcy would be overjoyed.

Clint had somehow managed to find the worst-fitting, loosest combat pants that he owned, accessorised them with an ancient, fraying hoodie, and as a result covered up all his best assets. None of the reporters were so much as looking at him, which was probably why he was standing as close to Phil's side as he could without actually standing on top of him. Phil regretted the shapeless, ugly clothing but he didn't mind the closeness. 

"Jesus, Phil," Clint murmured, "how fucking cold is it today?"

Phil sighed. "Not at all cold. You can't even see your breath."

"That's not a good gauge for how cold it is."

"You're a sniper," Phil said. "I've seen you sit for hours in temperatures much lower than this."

"That's for work. I don't do that for fun."

"Think of this as work, then."

Clint pouted, which should have looked ridiculous but actually just drew attention to his kissable lower lip. "I'm thinking of this as a Saturday morning that I could have spent in bed with you, making up for last Saturday."

"We're doing a good thing," Phil said firmly, pretending that he didn't feel exactly the same way about this.

"No, a good thing would be me getting fu-" Clint's eyes widened and he spun around quickly. "Shit, Nat, don't sneak up on a guy like that."

Natasha just smirked. "Darcy sent me over to tell you it's time."

There was absolutely no chance, from her expression, that Natasha hadn't overheard them but she didn't anything aloud so there was nothing Phil could do. She didn't even have paperwork due that he could punish her with.

"Think of it this way," Natasha said as they began walking over to the ten-man bicycle that Darcy had hired. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can all go home and you can do whatever you're pretending you weren't discussing. Paperwork, maybe."

Darcy was nearly bouncing with excitement. There were thousands of people lining the route and Phil could see nearly as many signs flying for the other teams as there were for the Avengers.

"OK, guys, t-shirts on," Darcy said, holding out the box.

The shirts were black and looked surprisingly tasteful. Phil hadn't seen the designs although Darcy had assured him that Fury had signed off on them. That didn't mean much, though. Fury had probably agreed to them to get Darcy out of his office. She could be more tenacious than an excited terrier when she had an idea she really loved. The front of the shirt bore the logo that marketing had designed for the Avengers months ago, when they realised just how much money there was in merchandising.

The back of the shirt had a larger version of the logo with a fake-handwritten "and groupies" under it that Phil was going to ignore unless Clint took it too literally. Below it there was a Twitter handle.

"When did we get a Twitter account?" he asked.

Darcy winced. "Um, couple of weeks ago? I'm PR gal now, this is the kind of thing we do."

"Am I going to regret checking it later?"

"Definitely not." Darcy beamed. "I haven't even put any embarrassing photos up. I'm being very good."

Around them, everyone was mounting their bikes. There were groups on single bikes, groups on big bikes like Darcy's, and just about every variation on a silly costume imaginable. A lot of the groups had t-shirts with logos and Twitter handles and Phil felt a little surprised at how well they blended in with other groups of work colleagues.

Well, blended except for the photographers who went crazy as soon as Stark stepped up to the bike.

And except for the way that all of them, even Jane, looked up when something red streaked across the sky.

"Oh, this is just fucking typical," Darcy said with disgust.

***

Phil settled gratefully into the comfortable chair in the rec room and sighed. For once, the post-disaster debriefing wasn't being done in a SHIELD office or the conference room down the corridor. It wasn't something he'd be encouraging but it felt good to be on a soft surface after the last twenty-four hours.

"So, I don't think that was the result you were looking for, boss," Clint said from where he was sprawled at one end of a couch. "But on the up side, nobody got hurt."

"And we did make a lot of money for charity even if we didn't actually get to ride anywhere," Steve added. "That's got to count for something."

There was a general air of exhausted defeat in the room. Steve and Clint had claimed one of the huge couches and Natasha was lying on another one with her head in Darcy's lap. Phil was trying hard not to speculate on how the hell that friendship had developed. Sometimes it was best not to think about these things, particularly where Darcy was concerned. 

"I can't even look," Darcy moaned, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the cushions. "Has CNN stopped playing the footage yet?" 

"It's only been a day," Natasha said gently. "It's going to take a while."

Banner was standing just behind Steve's couch, breathing in the steam from his cup of tea. Jane and Thor were sharing a chair and they were the only ones who looked even slightly cheerful, although that was probably because they always looked giggly and happy when they were together. Pepper had curled up in another chair and Stark was sitting on the floor leaning back against it, which allowed Pepper to card her fingers through his hair soothingly.

Phil was surprised to feel a little envious at seeing them. Despite Clint's cheerfully unsubtle comments, he never seemed very comfortable with physical displays of affection in the public. Not that Phil had ever felt particularly happy about it, televised kiss excluded, but on days like this when he ached in every muscle and the exhaustion had settled into his bones, it might have been nice to have someone to lean against.

"When is the photographer due?" Pepper asked.

Natasha grabbed Darcy's wrist and turned it to look at the watch. "In about ten minutes." 

"Why are we doing a photoshoot two hours after...that?" Tony asked. "I've still got bruises on my bruises."

"Because Darcy and I had to call in a lot of favours to arrange this," Pepper said firmly. "You wouldn't want us to look bad, would you?"

Phil hid a smile at Stark's expression. He didn't seem to know whether he wanted to object, give in or pout like a child.

"Maybe it won't be that bad," Clint said. "Exhausted superheroes straight from battlefield and all that stuff. If it doesn't involve me moving any time soon, I could be down with that. How much trouble can this shit be, anyway?"

Darcy opened her eyes to look at him disbelievingly. "You had to say it, didn't you?"

"What?"

"You've only gone and jinxed it." Darcy groaned. "Fuck."

There was a momentary pause and then cushions, dirty socks and a stress-ball flew through the air at Clint, who tried to throw Phil a pleading look. As JARVIS announced the arrival of the photographer and make-up team at exactly that moment, Phil felt entirely guiltless about leaving Clint to his fate. Pictures of the Avengers tearing their own rec room apart couldn't actually be worse than anything else that had hit the presses lately, after all.


End file.
